Here’s to the underdogs….

There have been many times when I have planned something or gone somewhere and expected to have a good time.

The result occasionally was “meh”.

Then I would have the unexpected movements that were surprisingly great.

Take Friday night for example.

I was tired from the week of work.

Jenn and I decided to run errands on Saturday instead of Friday after work.

Win.

We decided to watch the Men’s NCAA game St. Peter’s vs Perdue.

Most people already knew St Peter’s was a Cinderella team.

Making it into the “sweet sixteen” was great but now they had a chance to become part of the “elite eight”.

The game was amazing.

Jenn and I screamed and carried on as if we had been lifelong fans.

And while that game was going on Jenn also had the Lady Gamecocks tournament game on her IPAD.

For two ladies who would put basketball toward the bottom of their “want to watch list” it was so entertaining.

When the games were both over, we laughed and cheered.

Now we expected the Lady Gamecocks to win, they went into the tournament as a number one seed.

But St. Peter’s was a number 15 seed.

Playing way over their head.

I love seeing an underdog surprise people.

It reminded me of the NY Giants 2007 season.

In 2007, each week in the playoffs the Giants had to win on the road.

They made it all the way to the Super Bowl where they faces the NE Patriots who were undefeated.

The Pat’s win and they would have the perfect season.

The only thing between NE and football history was the underdog Giants.

Surprisingly, the Giants won.

What a great moment (except for Pat’s fans).

In order to be fair, I felt the same pain in 2004. When the NY Yankees were up 3 games to none in the divisional playoffs against their arch enemy, the Boston Red Sox.

The Yankees only had to win one game to go to the World Series.

They lost the next 4 games in a row and went home for the season.

It was awful to watch.

Well, I have planned my day so I am free and ready to watch my new favorite team, St. Peter’s play UNC at 5:00, followed by the Lady Gamecocks.

If St. Peter’s wins they go up against Duke in the final four.

If not, they have had an unbelievable run and I will probably still watch the final four, since a game between Duke and UNC will be epic.

Two universities just 14 miles away battling it out and the fact it is Coach K’s final season.

But if the unbelievable happens and St. Peter’s wins, I might have to shop for a t shirt to wear next week end.

So cheers to the little guys, the underdogs. 

Best of luck St. Peter’s you are winners in my book no matter what the final score is today!

See you next week!

The Sunday Rides

It is hard to believe there was a time when life was so simple.

Sunday afternoon or after dinner, Dad would say “Let’s go for a ride”.

He would load all of us on the station wagon and off we would go.

Destination unknown.

We would roll down the windows and feel the breeze against our faces.

In the summer, it would be a warm breeze but it beat the heat of our bedroom.

In the early years, there was no fan in our bedroom window.

Later on a box fan was put in the bedroom window.

All it really did was circulate the hot air.

And of course, the car didn’t have air conditioning.

Well, at least those of us with a window seat felt the breeze. 

There was normally a battle for who got stuck in the middle of second seat.

If the third seat was folded open that caused a new battle as to who got to ride backwards.

Dad would stop at a local gas station (Sinclair gas I think) and ask for $2 or maybe $5 worth of “high test”.

The gas attendant would ask “do you want your oil checked?”, as he cleaned the windshield.

We would ride for an hour or more.

I am not sure Dad even knew where we were headed.  

A rare stop at a Howard Johnson’s for an ice cream cone was a major treat.

During a milk strike in NY, I remember Dad driving us into Connecticut to find milk to get us through the week.

I knew how far we had traveled because the apartment buildings began fading away and we would turn on to some highway .

Then there would be trees.

On my South Bronx street there wasn’t one tree.

When we move to the Pelham Bay section of the Bronx, there were a few trees (maybe 2) on the sidewalk of our block.

The Sunday car rides were an adventure.

Music on the radio.

I can still see my Dad, left arm handling on the side of his open window and right hand on the steering wheel.

Before we knew it we were back home.

Dad would then enjoy parallel parking the wagon in some tight parking space. The price you paid for moving you car.

I guess “taking a ride” is in my genes.

Unfortunately, with todays gas prices you cannot take off just on a whim.

I have found you can find places of interest while running errands.

This morning, it was a big shock that Jenn and I were out of the house at 9:06.

A quick trip to Walmart followed by a stop to pick up bagels from our favorite bagel shop.

We then went to Port Royal which is just a few miles away.

One of our favorite shops, Maynards, has finally reopened.

We picked up a few items there and we were ready to fill up the tank and head home.

Then I remembered a few weeks ago taking a short cut on some back roads and could see some shrimp boats docked.

I decided today was the time to find them.

Jenn and I ventured back and forth and finally saw a parking lot with a lot of cars.

We headed over that way.

We saw a sign for a restaurant called “The Fishcamp”.

And there they were, the shrimp boats.

We pulled in the parking lot, Jenn got out and snapped a few pictures.

She also took a picture of a small cruise ship that is normally up in the Great Lakes area that has been here since COVID hit.  It were brought here to be worked on and it was cheaper to keep it docked here.

I am sure some time soon, it will be gone and make it’s trip back north.

Below are a few of the pictures that Jenn took today.

While it may not have been the Sunday rides that my dad took us on, it was a fun adventure this morning.

I drove home with a smile on my face from what I had just seen and what I had remembered from those Sunday’s past.

Anything that makes me smile and brings back good memories is well…..priceless.

See you next week.

The different faces of courage

The definition of courage- mental or moral strength to venture, persevere and withstand danger, fear or difficulty.

In the last week, I have seen different versions of the word courage.

Some are new to what I have seen but each had an impact on me in the last few days.

A President of a foreign country, a women at the top of her profession and a young boy with a catastrophic diagnosis.

President of a foreign country-

President Zelensky of the Ukraine.  As if I would have to say where he is from. I wrote about him last week.  It is great to observe what a true leader is in the face of his country being attacked by one person who can only be described as pure evil. I watch each day as he stands up and leads his country.  That’s courage.

A woman at the top of her profession-

Public speaking is something she is so familiar with as part of her job.  Entertaining, engaging and able to make you believe she is talking to just you and no one else matters.  These are some of the skills she has exhibited in her role/profession.  Then her world changes.  The initial diagnosis is Parkinsons Disease.  After a period of time, there are symptoms that don’t fit the bill.  While getting additional medical opinions and tests, she finds herself praying that it is “only” Parkinsons.  The new diagnosis is Multiple System Atrophy.  She fights each day to keep life “ as normal as possible”.  Finally, she comes to the realization that someone else will have to do the job.  She will have to step aside and become the mentor.  Eventually into new position that she cane do within the confines of her current limitations.

She has played an active role in an annual conference.  This year was different.  At the end of the conference, one of her former employees brings her out on the stage of the Kroger Center.  She is in a wheelchair.  She then shares the story of her journey the last few years.  As one of the conference exercises, attendees had to write on their arms “who you are but no what is visual to any observer”. She wrote on her arms: “It can take everything but it cannot have my smile, humor or my faith.”  She ended with a standing ovation.  That’s courage.

A 6 year old with a diagnosis of DIPG (Diffuse Intrinisic Pontine Glioma). 

He and his family have been battled this dreadful disease for a few years now.  Hospital stays, hundreds of appointments, medications and clinical trails. Look up the definition of DIPG.  It is scary, heartbreaking and dreadful.  

The one thing that has gotten this family through these years of one issue after the next is faith and prayer.Knowing they have done all they can to find answers and seek options has been trying on everyone is the family one way or another. Those close to the family and even those like me who observe from a  distance have not been left unchanged as the days, weeks, months and years pass.  We ask why without any answers.  We pray but at times are not sure what we should be asking for in those prayers. 

This little boy and his family continue to fight each day.  It is painful to watch and stressful for all.  Each day is a day of hope and love and bravery. That’s courage.

We do not know how any of these ‘profiles in courage” will turn out. All we can do is watch, admire, hope and pray for them all as they battle forth.

Only God knows what will happen and we will leave it in his loving arms.

See you next week.

PS I you would like to read more about the little boy, there is a FB page Cancer’s Kryptonite-A Superhero’s journey to conquer DIPG you can follow.

A Safe Zone

My family got our first dog when I was 14. Her name was Ruby.  She cost $15. Her “papers” consisted of the small bill of sale.

Part Shepard, part Lab, if I remember correctly.

A great dog who could occasionally get into mischief.

If she did something wrong and made it to the corner of the dining room behind the extra dining room chair and near the heating vent, she had made it to her “safe zone” and there was no reprimand or punishment.

Dad always felt everyone and everything needed a safe zone.

Even with his kids, he would say “if you tell the truth you will not get in trouble but if you lie getting back my trust would take a long time”.

Oh believe me, he would use the skills he perfected each day at work as a trial attorney questioning a witness when questioning his kids.

You usually confessed and he was good to his word.  No real punishment followed.

Not a person who believed physical punishment, his disappointment in your often sufficed.

The two times he hit me, I deserved it.   Once as a young child wandering off the block we lived on in the Bronx and no one could find me.  The other time he came home to a rip roaring party in our house while he and mom were out.  Obviously, the party had not been sanctioned by my parents.

Dad’s famous last words when he and mom went out were “nobody in and nobody out”. 

The surprising part was after he hit me, he went back to the dance he and mom were at and then the thing that surprised me the most, he called me and apologized to me for hitting me.

Mom on the other hand, raised with a heavy hand, the same way she had been raised.  She would also ground you for ridiculous amounts of time.

I think technically I am still being grounded for that unsanctioned party when I was 16.

Anyway, there was a safe zone for the dog and no backing us into a corner as long as the truth was told.

He said he didn’t believe in cornering people and that everyone deserved to have a way out.

When Jenn was young, it was time out on the stairs.

I would just point and she would sit there until I told her she could move.

I am not saying I never laid a hand on her.

I can remember two incidences, as a two year old running toward a busy road and an occasion when she was being disrespectful to me.

My guilt was so bad, I called school and had her called out of class so I could talk to her an apologize.

Everyone should have a safe zone, a place where we can shut out the rest of the world.

There we can dream.

I have my writers nook.

A recliner, weather worn folded up louvre door, Mom’s antique desk which holds so many of my treasures, my lego typewriter (thanks Jenn), a lamp, 12 years worth of journals and books I love covering everything from cheese to Italy to Dr. Seuss’s banned books to the annual writers guide.

I can sit in the corner, drink my coffee and soak it all in.

As I continued to be glued to the news this week, I think of those poor people in the Ukraine.  They have no safe zone.  They have been promised a chance at safe passage out of their homeland and then bombs and air strikes begin.  The agreements are being broken as soon as they are being made.

We are seeing the true definition of evil.

We are feeling a true sense of sorrow.  

I am in awe of President Zelensky. What a leader.  A man who went from 2006 winner of “Dancing with the Stars” Ukraine version after his career as a comedian to his 2019 election to President of the Ukraine with 73% of the vote.

I wish we had such a decisive leader in the person occupying the White House.

Oh wait corrrect that, he is in Delaware again this weekend, what a shock.

Wasn’t it Nero who played the violin while Rome burned?

We have Joe vacationing while the world is falling apart.

Does he really believe that we are not more than a few steps from WW III ?

Maybe Delaware is his safe zone.  But as President you do not get a safe zone.  

You want to be the leader of the free world? 

Well, then act like it.  This is not the time for days of no agenda, work days that end at dinner time and weekends away.

Imagine if Zelensky acted in this manner?  Right now, the Ukraine would have already been taken over by Russia.

While I relish my time in my writer’s nook, I cannot totally escape what is going on in our world. 

I wish I could.

The fact that when I leave that corner and my home (which is also a safe zone), I am still reminded of COVID, inflation, over $50-$60 to fill up a tank of gas and fear that Russia who now has control of one and working on a second nuclear power plants cannot be ignored.

The people of the Ukraine have no safe zone thanks to one lunatic. 

We here in the U.S. are losing our safe zones as illegal immigrants cross our border each day with no repercussions. 

What a sorry state of affairs we are dealing with thanks to our puppet of a president and administration.

Shouldn’t he be embarrassed that by purchasing Russian oil we are financing this fiasco?

Dear God even Dems are saying stop buying Russian oil.  But I do not think the solution is buying oil from Iran or Saudi Arabia.

Open up OUR damn pipelines.

As much as I do not like how much I am paying at the gas pump, I would pay more if it would help the Ukrainians in their quest to stay free.

And let’s speed up the process and let them join NATO.

And just as we have heard, watch out, next China will be going after Taiwan.

If Russia and China join forces, we are all screwed.

GOD WATCH OVER AND BLESS AMERICA!

Maybe that’s why right now on this Sunday morning, I am going to sit in my writers nook/safe zone just a few minutes longer.

I will face what is going on in the world in a few minutes but just for now, I will wrap myself in my words, thoughts and banned books (Dr, Seuss).

The rest of the day will come soon enough.

See you next week.